


don't say yes, runaway now

by piperpied



Category: 2park - Fandom, Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Angst (?), Fluff, M/M, Oneshot, Weddings, apologies for shitty editing, just read it smh, runaway together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 20:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13038912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piperpied/pseuds/piperpied
Summary: There’s an old cedar tree at the back of the church, with a swing that somebody hung there many years ago. The tree is old. It keeps the secrets of its visitors, and if you listen closely, you’ll hear it whispering about two boys who found each other beneath it.(inspired by the lyrics from Speak Now by taylor swift, or alternatively, Jihoon leaves his own wedding and runs away with Woojin)





	don't say yes, runaway now

**Author's Note:**

> my emotional outpouring after 2park's messages to eachother at the wannaone fancons.  
> Enjoy it and become a wreck with me, thanks
> 
> (probably poorly edited oh well)

_Dear Jihoon,_

_Its me. If I’m right, you’re putting on that pearly smile of yours right now and telling everyone this is the happiest day of your life. You've always been one hell of an actor._

_In a few minutes, you’ll probably walk out those doors too, and saying those two magic words._  
_But I’m asking you one thing, even though it’s a massive favour; don’t._

_I’ll be waiting at the back of the church, under that big old tree with the swing where nobody will find us._

_Yours,_  
_Woojin._

***

Park Jihoon doesn’t do weddings. Maybe it’s the numerous ones he’s attended, every time his father moved onto another woman, or his mother found another man with the riches to pour into a white dress. He hates the bright, fluorescent lights, and the idea of thousands of eyes fixed on his every move; hates the idea of swearing himself to another out in public like that, because surely something so intimate should be done in private, away from the world.

Its all these things that makes Jihoon hate weddings, but most of all, it’s the fact he doesn’t have any say in the matter this time. The fact that the boy who is his entire universe, his stars and moon combined, is not the one waiting for him at the altar, not the one taking his hands into his own and intertwining their heart strings.

Its all these things that make him tear from the church, heart banging against his ribcage, and out the doors into the spring air. 

*** 

There’s an old cedar tree at the back of the church, with a swing that somebody hung there many years ago. The tree is old. Not in the way a person is old, though it has the telltale gnarls and drooping branches, but in the way that it knows so much the very air beneath it is heavy. It keeps the secrets of its visitors, and if you listen closely, you’ll hear it whispering about two boys who found each other beneath it. 

Now, a boy in a white suit, all flushed cheeks and puffing breath, is speeding out of the church mid- ceremony. “Park Jihoon!” yell the voices behind him, but he doesn’t hear them.  
He picks the white flowers off his lapel as he runs, tossing them into the wind, his smile widening with every step away from that building and those people. His feet hit the earth and the sun warms his skin, and he drinks it all in like he’s rediscovering the world, the same way he felt when he met the other boy. The same way he feels over and over again whenever they’re together. 

The other boy is waiting for him. Under the big old cedar, in plain flannel pants and a shirt with the top button undone, so it flaps open in the spring breeze. He’s relaxed, like he knew the other boy would come even though their promises were not spoken aloud. Like they didn’t need to be.  
A lopsided grin appears on his lips as he glimpses the other, stumbling over the grass field to the bottom of the hill. The tree is at the top, and Jihoon stops at the nape, glancing up and shielding his eyes from the sun. 

Their eyes meet and twin smiles brighten their faces. Jihoon rushes up the hill like his life depends on it, and the boy is there to catch him at the top where he’s puffing with exertion. He’d never been much of a sports person, but right now he feels like the world’s greatest marathon runner. He could do anything, be anyone, if it meant being with him.

They’re clutching each other, just sinking into the total, complete surrealness of it all. And then the taller boy is pushing away so they’re face to face, only a millimetre separating them.

“Hi,” he says, booping their noses together. A smile appears on his lips, all soft and speaking of innocence.  
“Hi,” says the other in return, cheeks pink with exertion.  
“You took your time,” says the tan boy teasingly, looking down to lace their fingers together and then staring at their hands intertwined. His large, earth worn hand engulfing a fine, smaller one.  
“Hey,” Jihoon pushes lightly at the boy’s shoulder, “I ran a marathon for you. That’s basically proclaiming my undying love to the world.”  
The taller boy chuckles, drawing away but keeping their hands interlocked. The smaller suddenly feels like a schoolboy, all shy and flustered at the simple contact.

“I want to hear you say it,” says other then, his tone both softer and harder.  
It takes him by surprise, and Jihoon’s glances at him, a question in his eyes. The other nods, or doesn’t, but maybe they know each other so well that eye contact is enough.

He takes a deep breath, “Park Woojin, I do.” It feels so good, so right, he has to say it again, “I do, I do, I do, I-”

Woojin has caught his lips and then he’s kissing them softly, burningly, like the entire universe depends on it. He kisses him like everything might turn to dust if he doesn’t, like none of this will be real and Jihoon will disappear again, back in the perfect, untouchable white of the church. Jihoon kisses him back, wanting to memorise every curve of his lips, so he’ll never forget what it’s like to love Park Woojin. He winds his arms around his neck and pulls at the soft hair at the back of his head, eliciting a soft moan from the other. They kiss until time stops, and when Woojin pulls away, Jihoon can taste the smile on his lips.

He rests their foreheads together, breathing heavy and smiles giddy.  
"You are my entire universe, my stars and moon combined", thinks Woojin, and the timid smile spreading across Jihoon’s face as he glances at his feet tells him he said it aloud.  
He’s too caught up in everything to be embarrassed though, and focuses on Jihoon’s face. The long, tawny eyelashes fringing wide eyes, eyes that charm all sunlight into them. The freckles dusting his nose that are too light to see from afar, meaning they’re reserved only for Woojin. His smile- god his smile. 

Woojin worries for a moment he won’t be able to etch all these things properly into his mind.  
Jihoon notices Woojin’s face crumple a little, but instead of saying anything, Jihoon closes the gap between their lips again. 

But this time it’s gentle and fragile. Jihoon leads unlike before, pulling away when the younger boy becomes too eager, then pressing kisses against his lips, then the corner of his mouth. They stumble a few steps, and then Woojin is against the tree and letting Jihoon do what he pleases. It’s usually the other way around, but for some reason that makes Woojin’s body flush even warmer.

Jihoon presses kisses along his jaw, right up to the spot under his ear. He pulls away, and whispers; “that’s not exactly a wedding vow, but it’ll have to do,” making Woojin shiver.  
Instead of continuing like Woojin expects, Jihoon hesitates a moment. It’s all the time Woojin needs to reverse their positions, flipping Jihoon against the tree and pinning him there. 

“Park Jihoon, you’re a miracle,” he says under his breath, pushing a stray lock of hair from Jihoon’s eyes, “and if I have to spend every day of the rest of my life on this planet, I’m spending it with you. To hell with the rest of them.”  
Jihoon smiles into the kiss, and the sound of wind and birds singing in the valley is all around them like a warm, warm blanket. 

“Well, get on with it then,” he grins, gripping Woojin even tighter.


End file.
